Straightway the place admits the sun's bright rays;1630
The birds, their tree o'erthrown, fly twittering round,
And seek their vanished homes on wearied wing.
Now every tree resounds; even the oaks
Feel in their sacred sides the piercing steel,
Nor does its ancient sanctity protect1635
The grove. The wood into a pile is heaped;
Its logs alternate rising high aloft,
Make all too small a pyre for Hercules:
The pine inflammable, tough-fibered oak,